Work Text:
Rumi knows music.
Obviously.
She's learned all the music theory there is to know, since the moment the Honmoon reacted to her giggles and Celine immediately noticed. She can learn sheet music and tablature with equal ease, knows how to dissect a music's composition at the first listen. Hell, she can compose herself with alarming proficiency.
She can play instruments. The piano, the guitar, the bass and the drums, of course, but she also knows her way around various wind instruments, like the oboe and the saxophone, and can reasonably be considered familiar with the violin, the cello and the xylophone. At some point, she had started to become familiar enough with enough instruments that picking up a new one barely requires any adjustments anymore.
Once she was introduced to synthesizers and music software, she learned the production process easily, and became knowledgeable enough with it that she could handle each step along the way to a complete production and still make it sound professional.
She has studied the various movements and the evolution of genres throughout history. She's an expert in K-Pop, and can talk in length about any and all groups that ever came close to the Top 100. She once had written a dissertation about the creation of blues and its influence across the ages and genres. She knows what's popular, why, how to make music that's just different enough to be noticed yet familiar enough to rise up the charts.
She's not quite as good with lyrics writing, but as long as "safe and consensual" are enough, she can make do.
She dances like she spars. Methodically, precisely, with enough practice behind each movement that they get the sense of instinctual fluidity.
And of course, she sings.
She sings like others talk, with enough ease to make a trained singer jealous and enough training to put them all to shame. Her voice was praised since she was a child, and with the years the compliments only became more numerous and more sincere. She knows it because it's when she's singing that the Honmoon shines the brightest.
So yeah, Rumi knows music.
But she doesn't really like it.
She's proficient enough that she can find comfort and ease in the practice of it, but she's not drawn to it. She often listens to new groups to keep up with the trends, but rarely outside of practice otherwise.
It's okay, it's not like she dislikes music by any mean, and one doesn't really need to like something to be good at it. And she's good at it.
But she much prefers the calm, anyway.
Zoey arrives in her life like a hurricane.
She had just started to become familiar with Mira's intense presence, handling the disruption to her routines and her long acquired discipline with… a less than ideal amount of grace.
Mira didn't take very well to instructions without explanations, and any attempt at using her status as unnie or even pointing out their gap in training to establish her authority was met with immediate and stubborn rebellion. It took a few months before Mira learned that discipline wasn't always a mean of control, and before Rumi started explaining herself when she did or asked for things.
And then Zoey arrives, and everything is messy again. Not bad messy, or angry messy, like it was with Mira at first, but… confusing messy. Unsure messy.
Zoey doesn't rebel against their training regiment the same way Mira did. She displays an enthusiasm that Rumi doesn't quite get yet appreciates all the same, as well as a startling amount of respect for Celine, Rumi, and all their tutors. She ostentatiously welcomes structure, delights in having clear goals and steps to get there. At first glance, Zoey seems to be the perfect student and Rumi expect her to take to the training regiment like a turtle to water.
But she… fails at it? Somehow? Despite everything? Rumi is so confused about it.
Zoey keeps forgetting steps in their choreography, keeps getting late to classes and appointments, keeps staring at their world-renowned teachers like they hung up the moon and the stars and then space out during classes. She always apologizes, seemingly sincerely, but it keeps happening and Rumi can't help getting frustrated, a little.
Is Zoey… faking it? Is she really in it for the fame and money and keeps buttering everyone up so she doesn't get expelled? That can't be it, Rumi doesn't want ot believe it, and the Honmoon is reacting so strongly to her! Rumi can't make sense of any of it. Raw talent won't be enough to seal the Golden Honmoon. Zoey needs to start taking it seriously.
The situation lasts until Zoey finally gets the parental authorization and comes living with them.
For a little while, it's worse.
Zoey doesn't miraculously start arriving on time in class, often sleeping through her alarms, doesn't get any more focused when she's in, and now Rumi can't even find some solace at home, because Zoey is. Not. Calm.
At every possible moment, Zoey is making sounds. When she's not blasting eclectic music and moving to the beat, she's tapping on the first available surface to an imaginary rhythm, singing under her breath or rapping out loud. When it's not music, it's some random video, or a video game, or just her, rambling about anything and everything that captured her interest that day.
And Rumi tries. She really tries. But one day, where she woke up with a migraine, and spent the day grinding her teeth every time she caught Zoey spacing out, and Celine isn't here to keep the discussion focused during dinner, Rumi manages three bites before the dam breaks. "Sorry, I know sea lions are fascinating, but, could we have a little calm while eating? Keep some energy for voice training tomorrow, maybe you'll actually stay focused the whole time then."
Zoey's mouth closes with an audible click and silence falls around the table. A small part of Rumi delights in vindication and the sudden calm. A very small part. Mostly, it all just feels wrong.
Rumi kinda wants to apologize, but she doesn't know what for, and Zoey just giggles a little tensely, saying dismissively "Sorry! I know I get rambly sometimes, I'll shut now." Seems like she didn't mind Rumi's outburst too much, then.
They keep eating in silence. Rumi tries to find it relaxing and fails spectacularly. Probably because of the way Mira keeps burning a hole in her skull with her glare.
When they finish dinner, Zoey excuse herself after cleaning up her bowl, and since Mira cooked, Rumi ends up on dishes duty. She expects Mira to go relax in her room like she often does. Instead, Mira leans on the counter, crosses her arms, and with a deadly frown and acidic tone, demands, "So, what's gotten into you?"
Rumi startles a little. "What do you mean?"
"Don't give me that," spits out Mira. "Why did you decide to tear Zoey a new one?"
"Tear her a— Come on, I didn't say anything bad!" defends Rumi, "I just wanted a little bit of calm for the day!"
"Yeah, and you needed to mock her for that?" challenges Mira. "You know how sensitive she is on that kinda things!"
Rumi doesn't know, really. "I wasn't that harsh. The public will be much more relentless when we finally debut. She needs to—"
"And who is she gonna find support with, when the public decide to crucify her for the slightest mistake?" growls Mira.
"With… us?"
"With other people who mock and belittle her?" Mira scoffs. "Yeah, I doubt that."
Rumi doesn't know what to say, so she keeps on scrubbing the pan. I has been clean for the better part of a minute already.
"Do you have any idea how much this means to Zoey?" tries Mira, "How much she wants it?"
No, I don't, wants to say Rumi, but somehow the words stay stuck behind the vice in her throat.
Mira leans toward her, and her next words are laced with venom. "Listen to me well. If Zoey quits, I go too. Good luck with the Golden Honmoon then."
Fear, visceral fear, grips Rumi's heart. She whips her head towards Mira, eyes wide. "You can't! I—"
"Then you better get your head out of your ass and apologize, Unnie." She grabs the sponge from Rumi's hands and shoo her out of the kitchen. "Go."
Rumi hears Zoey's voice through the door before she can knock. She recognizes the exercises their vocal coach gave them until their next session but…
She knocks, and after a few seconds she hears Zoey blow her nose before she timidly opens the door. Rumi notes her red eyes, and the way they shift away from looking directly at her. "Was I too loud? I can keep it down," she says, when Rumi's words fail her.
"No, you—" What did Rumi mean to say, again? "You shouldn't strain your voice. Coach Han told us to keep it to a minimum after today's session."
That was the wrong thing to say. Zoey's face crumples and Rumi's heart follow, as heavy sobs start tearing her maknae's throat. "'M sorry! Sorry! I'll— FUCK!"
The curses jolts Rumi out of her stupor. She scrambles about, unsure what to do. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, don't cry! I didn't mean to— Please don't cry?" She tries to grab the nearest tissue box to present it to Zoey, but the girl doesn't even register the offer.
How do you calm someone who's crying? Several options course through Rumi's mind but splashing Zoey with water seems unnecessarily cruel and calling Mira sounds too much like letting someone else handle her own mistakes. So how does she fix it? How does one fix crying? She can't remember ever needing to do that. She doesn't remember anyone else crying around her, to be honest. She only remembers when she was little and vexed and not yet familiar with the responsibilities she wielded and cried for the most mundane vexation. How did Celine—
Awkwardly, Rumi wraps her arms around the trembling body, until her younger group mate's head is tucked against her shoulder. The sobs stop brutally with a hiccup, and Zoey's whole body goes taut, but the process is not yet finished so Rumi just powers through her hesitation and starts stiffly petting the black hair and sings.
We are hunters, voices strong
Slaying demons with our song
Fix the world and make it right
When darkness finally meets the light
She hesitates, at the end of the verse, unsure if she should continue because, well, the cries have stopped? But it feels too soon to stop? What is she doing?
"What… are you doing?" asks Zoey incredulously.
"I— You were crying?" Rumi cringes. God, why is she so awkward? She starts to unfurl from around Zoey, only to have the younger girl wrap her arm around her midsection and hold her close, keeping her face hidden against Rumi's shoulder. "Zoey?"
Zoey mumbles something inaudible.
"What?"
"I thought you hated me," says Zoey, just loud enough that Rumi can hear it.
"What? Why? No! I—" What gave her the impression? "I don't… hate you. Why do you think that?"
"Because I'm always late? I'm always talking, I'm always distracted, doing the wrong thing all the time, forgetting instructions as soon as I hear them. I'm not perfect like you and Mira, I wouldn't blame you for hating having to put up with me."
And Rumi wants to deny it, but at the same time, well… "Why did you sign up to become a trainee? Why go through all the trouble if…?"
"If I can't even work properly?" Zoey laughs, but it's an angry, bitter thing. She releases Rumi and pads toward her desk. "This is my dream, Rumi! It's the one thing I ever wanted enough to keep it through the years! Ever since I first saw the Sunlight Sisters performing, I knew I wanted that to be me. To sing and dance and inspire millions like that. And to learn I have been chosen by the magical shield between worlds to be a top performer and save the world with badass magic weapons and superpowers? Fuck, Rumi, don't you realize? If I can't hold on to that then…" She crushes the tears that have started falling again with her hand. "I can't lose it, I promise I'll do better."
It doesnt make any sense, to Rumi. She tries asking, "Then why do you…"
"I DON'T KNOW!" screams Zoey. She grabs a notebook on her desk, which, Rumi realizes, is drowning in them, and shakes it fiercely. "For years now I've filled those to the brim, during classes, in the halls, instead of sleeping! I've been chewed out more times than I can count for doodling or writing lyrics or whatever instead of listening in class. I thought, once I am here doing what I loved and wanted all this time it would get better but NO!"
She throws the notebook back on the desk half-heartedly, and collapse on her bed. elbows on her knees, face disappearing in her hands. "Apparently I'm too lazy even for that! And I can't even get along with my fucking soulmate. Fuck!"
Curiosity overtake Rumi and she goes to grab the notebook, asking, "Can I look?"
That gets Zoey's attention. She eyes her warily and nods.
The notebook is… chaotic. Lyrics share the pages with doodles, nothing is ordered in any way that makes any kind of sense to Rumi, and most writings merrily ignores the lines traced on the page, written at angles, or upside-down.
The styles are diverse, leaning heavily on the rap, but even Rumi can recognize that this is good lyricism.
Some of it is energetic.
Okay, like, I know I ramble
But when shootin' my words, I go Rambo
Took blood, sweat, and tears to look natural
Some of it is cheeky.
Body on body, I'm naughty, not even sorry
And when you pull up, I'll pull up, a little late to the party
Some of it is… concerning.
How many knives do a bitch gotta take
'Til a bitch gotta take some lives?
How many times do a bitch gotta break
'Til a bitch gotta break your spine?
But more importantly… "This is good."
"Really?" Comes the hopeful lilt of Zoey's voice. Rumi didn't realize that she had spoken out loud, but still, she nods, because it's true.
"Yes! Well, not all of it is… idol-compatible but we could use some of those lyrics in our songs, if you want."
"If I—?" Zoey scoffs. "Rumi, you don't understand, this is all I've ever dreamed of."
"Do you have melodies in mind already or…?"
"Oh! Yeah! Gimme a minute!"
Zoey bounds from her bed to boot up her laptop, speaking all the while. "So like, this is messy, obviously, and I only had my phone mic to record so the sound quality is horrendous, but I think it could go like…"
The sound fills the space from the laptop speakers and, yeah, it's a crunchy and ugly sound but at the same time Rumi sees the vision, it's just lacking a little…
"Wait, let's go to the studio."
She grabs the laptop and Zoey scrambles to follow. Once the project transferred to the dedicated computer there, Rumi turns to the keyboard and adds harmonies, then tweaks the bass and presses play.
"What about this?"
Zoey looks at her like she's grown a second head, but after a few seconds comes behind the computer and clicks off a few tracks before asking, "can I?"
Rumi lets her. "For the bass I was thinking something with a bit more bite like…"
And damn, she's right. "It's better," Rumi says. Zoey grins and switch to the drums part, and starts recording a beat on the go. It's familiar, somehow.
"Wait! That's what you were tapping!" Rumi jumps up.
"Wuh?"
"During voice coaching! You were tapping against the piano, that's it, isn't it?"
Zoey looks at her with lost eyes. "Maybe? I don't know, sorry, I don't remember."
"Oh." She doesn't? How does her brain function?
"By the way, I'm really sorry about the voice coaching, I really tried to focus but…" she grimaces, "I don't know, it was a bad day."
"It's okay, I'm sorry that I snapped at you during dinner. It was… also a bad day?"
"Bad how?"
How is Rumi supposed to answer that? "I… had a headache? What about you?"
"Oh, you know," she gestures toward her brain, "fuzzy brain kinda day."
"Right." Rumi has no idea what she's talking about but… "What helps during those times?"
"Hell if I know," shrugs Zoey, bitterly. "Coffee? I think? If you do figure it out, please tell me."
That gives Rumi pause. "I could… wake you up?"
"During classes?"
"No but… like the morning? And remind you of homework or things like that?" Rumi grimaces. "During classes I don't know, maybe we could… change it up a little if you get distracted? Take a coffee break? Maybe that helps?"
"I don't want to be a bother…"
Rumi shrugs. "It doesn't bother me. Now, for the bridge, what did you have in mind?"
They stay up way past their bed times, only realizing how late it had become when Mira entered the studio, looking at them quizzically and asking what the hell they were doing. Zoey immediately roped her into listening to the track in progress, which led to Mira improvising a couple of dance steps in the studio, which then led to Celine catching them still up at one AM, shooing them off to bed, much less sternly than Rumi expected.
They scutter back to their rooms, giggling. Well, Zoey is giggling, Mira is smirking, and Rumi is sweating a little after having been scolded by Celine, but somehow it doesn't feel too bad.
Zoey's room is first. She pulls Rumi into a quick hug. "Thank you," she says, and Rumi doesn't have time to ask what she's being thanked for before Zoey disappears into the room.
Mira hums approvingly, only saying, "Good job, princess," and closes her door.
Rumi goes to sleep confused, but much lighter than she felt all day.
It still took a while, after that.
Waking Zoey up became the best part of Rumi's morning, because Zoey was way too cute when she was sleepy and the smile she got when Zoey recognized her filled her belly with butterflies.
The rest of the day was still a challenge, but now that Rumi knew how hard it was for Zoey, it became their challenge. They developed techniques, roping Mira into helping, which she did readily. When they could, they adjusted the courses and tutoring to smaller segments with more practical exercises and some breaks in between.
It took a couple of years before Zoey finally got diagnosed, after Bobby insisted, but by then they had debuted and found their rhythm already, the medication only helping even more.
In the meantime, studio sessions became a regular occurrence, which always left Rumi relaxed and energized in equal measure. When Zoey mindlessly mouthed lyrics, or tapped a beat, or hummed a melody, Rumi found herself joining in and harmonizing.
Zoey arrived in her life and, to her biggest surprise, Rumi didn't prefer the calm, anymore.
Now, Rumi loved music.